


A Courtin' We Will Go

by eeyore9990



Series: 30 Thankful Days [29]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Werewolf Courting, stiles has a technology boner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 03:17:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5318411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeyore9990/pseuds/eeyore9990
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Peter decides to court Stiles, he goes all out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Courtin' We Will Go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> 30 Thankful Days, Day 29 and HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!: Gift for @snarry4ever

Stiles sat at the table, muttering under his breath as Derek's ancient laptop whirred and clicked but produced exactly zero results. The opening of the door didn't even draw his attention; there were enough wolves in the room that surely one of them would stop whatever threat might be coming to kick their collective asses.

Suddenly chilled by his own thoughts, Stiles glanced guiltily over his shoulder and breathed out a sigh of relief to see that it was only Lydia and Peter. Then he shook his head at himself because for one thing, in what universe was Peter classified as a relief? And also… Lydia was willingly within ten feet of Peter? 

Stiles stood up out of his chair and walked across the room, stepping between Lydia and Peter and herding her over to the long, scarred table. "Hey," he murmured, keeping his voice as low as possible. "Everything okay?" 

"Why wouldn't it be?" Lydia raised one perfect eyebrow at him before opening the large bag that hung at her side, the strap crossed over her chest. From within its depths, she pulled another laptop and lightly set it down. "This should help," she said, gingerly closing the lid of Derek's laptop and pushing it away with two stiff fingers. "Peter assures me the bestiary is at least as updated on this as the one on that… _device_." 

Stiles let out a low whistle, hands stroking lovingly over the new laptop. "Look at this beauty. Damn, Lydia, what did this set you back?" A long silence from Lydia made him look up at her, flushing a little as he realized it was probably rude to ask how much she'd paid for something. 

Instead of chiding him, though, she just studied him for a long moment, then pursed her lips. "It's a gift," she finally said. "For _you._ " 

Something in Stiles clenched -- a little lower than his heart, but far above his dick. "Lydia…" He licked his lips and looked up at her, wondering how on earth to tell her he wasn't interested. 

"From Peter," she added, though her lovely mouth twisted up in a smirk as she obviously caught on to his thoughts. Then she turned solemn, a little worried. "Be careful, Stiles. I'm not sure what this is about, but… I've learned to look twice at Peter's gifts. The last time he gave _me_ one, it ended up making me think I was losing my mind." 

"Thank you, Lydia, my love," Peter said, striding across the room to catch her around the waist, leading her away. "That's quite enough of that for now." 

Stiles looked after them, feeling as though he was caught in the middle of a whirlwind. "What?" he asked out loud, hoping for someone to come explain the last five minutes of his life to him. 

The only answer he got was a loud grinding noise from Derek's laptop, which made him turn his attention back to the gorgeous, sleek silver laptop with... _holy orgasms_ two terabytes of memory and a processing speed that would make a Lamborghini look like a Model T. 

Stiles whimpered and reminded himself to look up tips and tricks for giving blow jobs later. Just in case that's what Peter decided to take for payment. 

Though, to be honest, if this was the payout, Stiles apparently had no problem turning to a life of prostitution. Sad, but true. 

\-- 

His bedroom window sliding open was a too-familiar sound these days, so Stiles finished the rest of the paragraph he'd been working on before glancing behind him to see Derek standing near his window, looking a little uncomfortable. Which was hilarious because Derek had literally climbed through his bedroom window at least twenty times in the last two years. 

That Stiles was aware of. 

Plucking up a stuffed animal from the corner of his desk -- a long-haired white cat he'd bought specifically for these occasions -- Stiles spun slowly around in his chair, stroking one hand along the faux fur while holding his pinky to his mouth. "We meet again, Bond," he murmured in his best evil villain voice, then tossed his head back and laughed out an overly dramatic, "Ha, ha, haaa!" 

Derek just stared at him through narrowed eyes for a long minute before he shook his head. "Your parents must have dropped you on your head as a baby." Moving forward quickly, Derek pulled something from his back pocket and handed it to Stiles before backing up across the room again. 

Looking down, Stiles saw a … ffffuuuuuck. A Samsung Galaxy S5. Stiles was pretty sure these weren't even _out_ in stores yet, but -- A record screeching sound broke through his brain followed by the _whoop whoop_ of a bomb alarm. 

"Um. Derek?" Stiles said, voice a little shaky as he held up the phone, already mourning its loss. 

"What." 

"Dude, you're my bro and all, but I can't accept this. I just--" 

"Your last one was destroyed in the lake when we were trying to find that naiad's family." Derek scooted another few inches toward the window, like he was going to backflip out of it regardless of the fact that it was closed. 

"Right, right, but dude. This? I mean, I had a freaking slide out keyboard phone before and--" 

"Peter." Derek stared hard at him, jaw muscles working as he obviously tried to figure out how to explain this in three words or less. "Peter bought it." 

Stiles went boneless with relief, noodling all over his chair and nearly sliding to the floor. "Oh thank god. I thought you were trying to tell me something, and I love you and all dude, but not like that. Which isn't to say you aren't very attractive, but I am man enough to admit that Braeden scares the shit out of me, so like, any potential boner I might ever have sprung for you is iced right out of existence just thinking of what she'd do to my balls if--" 

" _Stiles_." 

"Wha--?" Stiles straightened up, shooting a questioning look at Derek only to see that Derek looked like he was dying of embarrassment. Whether it was on Stiles' behalf or his own was anyone's guess. "Oh right. Yeah, um. Thanks for delivering it? I mean, I guess I should thank Peter too but--" 

"Everyone's numbers are programmed in already. You just have to set up the fingerprint scan--" 

_"Fingerprint scan,"_ Stiles moaned, his dick giving an actual twitch in his pants at the beauty of the technology in his hands. Prying off the back cover, he giddily removed the battery and replaced it, over and over, just because _he could_. Suck it, iPhone. 

If he actually pressed a kiss to the 64GB SD card, well. Derek probably had no idea what it even was, so. Who was going to tell on him? Hah. 

"Peter said he's having an extra battery, three chargers, and a beaver box mailed to you, but he thought you'd like to have this as soon as possible." 

"Beaver… oh for fuck's sake, Derek. _Otter_ box. Fine, fine. Go away now. Thank you for being a very efficient delivery boy, but I have some things to do with this pretty lady and--" 

And Derek was already gone. 

Stiles thumbed on the phone, drooling over the start-up graphics even as he waited for the home screen to pop up. When it did, he had to laugh a little, because Peter had taken a selfie and set it as the home screen. "Okay, okay," Stiles muttered and quickly typed out a message to the contact labeled simply _Peter_ in his phone. 

**Thanks.**

\-- 

"You turned down Lydia," Peter said, trailing his fingers along the hood of Stiles' Jeep. "When you thought she gave you the laptop." 

"I didn't, actually," Stiles corrected him. Then he shrugged and admitted, "I mean, I was going to. I love Lydia, but I'm pretty sure that love is more sibling-like than lover-like." 

Peter nodded, lips curving upward just a little. "And Derek was quite traumatized when he returned from your house the other night. I overheard a little of what he told Braeden -- hard to do over the sound of her cackling like a witch--" 

"We call that 'eavesdropping,'" Stiles said dryly. 

"Regardless. You didn't return either of my gifts though you seemed reluctant to accept them if they came from anyone else." Peter seemed very careful not to allow his voice to lilt upward and turn his bland statements into telling questions. 

Stiles just crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the driver's door of the Jeep. "Uh huh. If you try to buy me a new car, I have to tell you--" 

"I'd never," Peter said, blinking rapidly. "It was your mother's vehicle. I'm well aware of how much sentimental value is attached to this death trap." 

Stiles' mouth opened in something like shock, though no words came out for a long minute. "Oh. Oh, um. Yeah, although you don't have to insult it--" 

"Though I am glad you mentioned that because in a roundabout way, you've introduced my next topic, which is this. I was out shopping the other day and found a quaint little second hand shop off the main strip downtown." Peter gently led Stiles over to his vehicle, a low slung, silver car that looked vaguely menacing, almost dangerous. 

Stiles knew nothing about vehicles that weren't Jeeps, so he couldn't be sure, but he'd guess the car was worth more than his dad made in a year. Maybe two. 

It probably came with free oil changes for life or something. 

Stiles waited patiently while Peter popped his trunk and reached inside, pulling out a plain brown paper bag with cute little twine handles. "What's this?" 

"While I was at the shop--" 

"I'm still having trouble seeing you in a second-hand shop," Stiles muttered, fingers itching to grab the bag and peek inside. 

"Yes, well. I found this and…" Peter inclined his head, handing over the bag. "You should have it." 

Stiles didn't stand on ceremony when he was handed a gift. He opened the bag and reached inside, a little grateful in some distant corner of his mind that it wasn't filled with poisonous snakes or spiders, and felt something incredibly soft. Thinking it was probably a new hoodie or something, he pulled it out… and pulled a little more when it ended up being a blanket. 

A quilt, in fact. 

Stiles stared at it in confusion for a long moment, pulling it through his hands and testing the softness of the obviously-loved fabric. It was one of those that was pieced together out of other squares of fabric, and it wasn't until he was leaned over, studying one with little green dinosaurs on it that he realized what it was. And then the breath left his body in a choked-off whimper. 

His mom had made this quilt. His _mom_ had made this quilt for some charity auction for the Sheriff's department, back when his dad had been a mere deputy. 

Stiles buried his face in it, dragging in lungfuls of air, trying to smell his mom under the scent of mothballs. Some part of him knew it was impossible, but he tried all the same. 

Finally pulling himself together enough to look up at Peter, Stiles bypassed all words of thanks -- a mere thank you couldn't possibly do this gift justice -- and simply asked, his voice clogged with tears, "How did you know? How did you know it was _hers?_ " 

"I attended the auction. It was my job to be seen out and about, to make our pack seem just another affluent family in the community." Peter picked up one corner of the quilt, showing off three of the squares. "By whatever trick of the brain, when I saw this particular pattern, I remembered. I remembered your mother holding it up. It stuck with me because she was hospitalized a few weeks later. Talia made a casserole for your father. For you." 

Stiles rubbed the material gently between his fingers, nodding. He didn't remember her casserole exactly, just that there had been _so many_ of them. So many offered to a scared, lonely boy with careful instructions for how to reheat them. Like they'd known his dad wouldn't be the one to do it. 

Stiles blinked away tears, looking at Peter and seeing a calm sort of understanding in his sharp gaze. "Tha--" 

"No," Peter interrupted, jaw clenching. "This isn't something I will accept thanks for. This belongs to you. To your family. It should have been returned to you upon your mother's death, but apparently people will continue to astound me with their carelessly insensitive stupidity until my own death. This is yours, Stiles. It always was." 

Lunging forward, Stiles wrapped Peter in a hug that was at least two parts awkward. But he didn't care. Peter had given him back a piece of his mom. That was… 

That was _something._

\-- 

Peter pulled a pristine handkerchief from his pocket like a magician pulling a dove from thin air. He carefully cleaned the blood from his claws before shifting his hands back to human and wiping the remaining gore away. 

Stiles watched it all with the single-minded focus he only got when the adrenaline was still pumping furiously in his veins with no ready way to expel it. Since he couldn't fight a vampire -- thank you, Derek Hale, for being _very wrong_ about their existence -- Stiles decided to use that extra energy confronting a different sort of monster. 

"So," he said, his voice light. "Laptop. Phone, _with_ badass accessories and a Batman emblem Otterbox which I didn't think even think existed. Mom's quilt. What's next? Are you finally going to admit what this is?" 

Peter glanced up at him, eyebrows raised. "You don't enjoy gifts? The technology was simply your due as the pack's research assistant--" 

"Assistant?! Oh fuck you, Hale!" 

The smirk on Peter's face went just a shade more evil. "With pleasure." 

Everything in Stiles rolled over at that, the spark of anger turning into an inferno of lust. "Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" 

"Oh trust me, dear boy. I would not be the only one enjoying myself. Several times. In many different positions." 

Stiles' gaze dropped to the deep vee of Peter's shirt, dragged up along the thick, muscular neck, and finally locked on Peter's. "Promises, promises. Is that what you're giving me tonight?" he asked, stepping forward and standing up that much straighter. Being taller than Peter gave him a little thrill. Maybe it made him an asshole, but… 

Something pressed into his palm and Stiles looked down, saw that Peter was placing a key there. "I told you I don't want a…" But it wasn't a car key. It was a _house_ key. 

"You're right," Peter said, mirroring Stiles' step with one of his own, bringing their bodies so close that with every deep breath, Peter's chest rubbed tantalizingly against Stiles' nipples. "I have been giving you gifts. Proving I can provide for you. Tell me what that means, Stiles." 

Stiles swallowed roughly, Peter's cologne wafting toward him and making him a little light-headed. A lot aroused. Or maybe that was just his nipples talking. "You're courting me." 

"You have a sharp tongue and a quick mind. You have never bored me. You don't shy away from doing what is necessary. You leave protestations of morality to those more suited. Why shouldn't I want that for myself?" 

"You sound proud." Stiles tried to make the words an accusation but feared they fell short of that mark. 

"They aren't my accomplishments to be proud of. But I am… eager to know more. To watch you grow and flourish in a less rigid setting. I want to experience the joy of you fulfilling the promise of your body." Peter's voice was so smooth, Stiles almost didn't think to scoff at those words. 

"My body…" 

"Is beatiful. Long limbs, hands that could tear your lover apart and put him back together a new person. A mouth that… I know you've tried it." 

"What?" Stiles whispered, leaning closer, their mouths almost touching. 

"Auto fellatio. Your mouth was _made_ to be filled." 

"No, I… I mean, yeah I tried. But I couldn't get close enough." Stiles remembered how his back had ached after several days of summer break spent trying. 

Peter sighed, his breath tickling Stiles' lips. "Pity. I'd like to have seen that." 

"It was a long time ago." Stiles licked his lips, tasting Peter's in the process. "They say if at first you don't suceed, try--" 

The rest of his sentence was lost to Peter's mouth opening under his. Fingers wrapped around the back of his neck, dragging him down into the kiss that was mind blowingly intense. Peter kissed like a man with twenty years of experience and maybe it made Stiles a little more odd than he already was, but that kinda did it for him. 

Moaning softly, he brought his hands up, the key falling somewhere on the ground. He rubbed his palms over the meaty muscles of Peter's pecs, bunching and squeezing them like he was plumping them up for something. 

Peter growled softly, pressing into his touch and working a thick thigh between Stiles', giving him something to grind against. He worked the thumb of his free hand over Stiles nipple, then pinched it cruelly when Stiles' knees went a little wobbly. 

"I want you to come," Peter pulled back enough to say, biting at Stiles' lip just to lap at the spot of pain with his tongue. "I want you to fill your pants with your own come, get yourself all sloppy and uncomfortable with it. I want you to drive home just like that, all loose and come-stupid, and pack a bag. And then I want you to find me. Use that key." 

Stiles whimpered, grinding harder against Peter's thigh, rocking against it to the pounding tempo of his own heartbeat. "Oh god, Peter!" 

"Hack your father's computer. Find my address." Peter gave another twist to Stiles' nipple, pushing him over the edge. 

As Stiles whimpered and shook, spurting into his underwear and making a mess of his jeans, Peter whispered, "The key is yours even if you decline my offer. There are never enough safe places in this town. I want you to have another. But if you use it tonight… I don't share. If you come _tonight,_ I will attach a meaning to it. I will assume you've accepted my courtship." 

"I'll be yours," Stiles said, a little muzzily. 

"Just as I will be yours." Pressing a soft, rather sweet kiss to the side of Stiles' head, Peter stepped back and adjusted himself before disappearing into the Preserve. 

\-- 

Stiles pulled the strap of his bag higher up on his shoulder, fitting his key into the lock...

**Author's Note:**

> A/N-- For those who are wondering, this fic features a Samsung Galaxy S5 as the newest, not-yet-available-to-the-public version of the S-series Galaxy phone. The S5 was unveiled to the world in February of 2014 and then went live in stores on April 11 of the same year. This puts Stiles as somewhere around 19 or 20 in this fic. 
> 
>  
> 
> Fun fact: The S5 is the last Galaxy S-series phone that featured a removable battery. Which is why I will _never ever ever_ upgrade my phone.
> 
>  
> 
> Stop trying to turn your gorgeous product into a basic ass iPhone, Samsung! /rant


End file.
